


Knock Knock, The Past Is Here

by Storm_Rain



Series: (Un)expecting [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 03:14:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storm_Rain/pseuds/Storm_Rain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Crowley.” “Gabriel. Long time no see.” “You know each other?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knock Knock, The Past Is Here

**Author's Note:**

> The plot bunny finally delivered its babies. There was a little demon baby plot bunny, and it wanted Crowley, so... This happened.  
> Also, yes, I know that the series has become more Sabriel-centric, I plan on writing a few more Destiel-centric fics to make up for it, promise.

**Title** : (Un)expecting Verse #6: Knock, Knock, The Past is Here  
 **Author** : storm_rain  
 **Pairings/Characters** : Sam/Gabriel, Dean/Castiel, mostly one-sided Bobby/Crowley  
 **Rating** : PG-13  
 **Word Count** : 1, 393  
 **Warnings** : Mentions of past slash sex, Crowley snark, mpreg, tears  
 **Spoilers** : Season 5  
 **Disclaimer** : I do not own Supernatural and do not make money from writing this story.  
 **Summary** : “Crowley.” “Gabriel. Long time no see.” “You know each other?”  
 **Notes** : The plot bunny finally delivered its babies. There was a little demon baby plot bunny, and it wanted Crowley, so... This happened.  
Also, yes, I know that the series has become more Sabriel-centric, I plan on writing a few more Destiel-centric fics to make up for it, promise. 

 

Crowley arrives in the morning, in the kitchen, with a cup of steaming tea in his hand and his usual smug smirk plastered on his face. There is a simultaneously surprised/alarmed/violent reaction: Dean shouts and reaches for his knife, throwing an arm in front of Castiel, Sam dives on top of Gabriel, and Bobby pulls out his shotgun. The expression on Crowley’s face is now one of extreme amusement; he’s turned red and seems to be fighting back laughter.

“So the rumours are true then,” he says lightly when he’s calmed down, nodding at the angels’ round bellies. “You two knuckleheads knocked up your angels.” Both Sam and Dean redden and glower at him, while the angels just glare at him (although Castiel does appear much more uncomfortable than he was before, and rubs his stomach protectively). Gabriel shoves Sam off of him.

“Crowley,” he states, and the King of the Crossroads looks at him. He smirks and raises his teacup in a sort of toast.

“Gabriel,” he acknowledges, and takes a sip. He sighs happily and grins at him. “Long time no see.” The confused and shocked reactions from before are back, but without the weaponry (expect for Dean, who is still armed with the knife and looks ready to use it at any second). Mouths gape.

“You know each other?” Dean demands. He gestures a little when he says this, and Castiel has to reach out and seize his arm before he gouges out his eye with the knife. Dean winces and strokes his arm in apology. Cas rolls his eyes—he’s become so much more expressive during the pregnancy—and motions for him to turn around again.

Gabriel thins his lips and nods in response to Dean’s question.

“We knew each other when I was Loki,” he says tightly, and Sam just knows that there’s more to the story than that, but that’s all the angel says for now. Crowley’s smirk grows wider.

“No need to be shy about it, darling,” he drawls, “It’s been, what, two hundred years or so now? We had some fun romps together, did we not? That time in Greece and that orgy...good times.”

Gabriel’s eyes flash gold, an indication of his power that hasn’t manifested itself in a month or so. Crowley holds up his hands in surrender, and turns his attention to the only silent person in the back.

“Bobby Singer,” the demon practically purrs, and the older hunter narrows his eyes at him. “It’s been too long for us as well, darling.”

“Not long enough,” Bobby grunts, and looks away, so he doesn’t notice the genuinely wounded look on the Crossroad demon’s face.

“Tough crowd, tough crowd,” he says, sighing, and visibly shifts into a more serious expression. “But I didn’t come here for pleasantries. I came to offer my assistance in the matter.”

“And why would you help us?” says Gabriel carefully. Crowley grins, teeth bared.

“Angelic fledglings are rare, correct? And there will be many...evil forces out there that will want those children.”

Protective growls echo around the room, and he laughs. “That’s what I thought,” he says in satisfaction, and gestures to himself. “As the King of Hell, I can guarantee that there will be little to no demonic attacks on your children.”

“What’s the catch?” Dean asks immediately. 

“Ever the sharp one,” Crowley compliments him, and states, “The angels have been on my arse as of late, and I’m tired of running. I want guaranteed assurance that I will be safe from any and all heavenly forces.”

“Done.”

Everyone stares at Gabriel in shock; the archangel had thrown out the word before the last syllable had left Crowley’s lips. The demon himself looks surprised, too, but taps his fingers together and grins.

“We have a deal, then.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait, a deal?” Dean interjects, face thundering, and Sam looks nearly the same next to him. Castiel has narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his brother. “No one said anything explicitly about a deal.”

“Deals don’t work on angels, not the same way,” Gabriel says evenly, glowing golden eyes still fixed on Crowley. “We don’t have souls to sell the way humans do, only Grace, which can’t be entered into a contract. We’re going on faith here.”

“Nonsense, Gabriel,” the demon purrs, and everyone turns their attention to him again. “This is more of a...favor, for an old friend.” Gabriel frowns uncertainly, and that, more than anything, sets Sam on high alert. Besides this pregnancy, which has thrown all of them for a loop, the archangel never looks uncertain about anything.

“How do we know that you’re telling the truth?” interjects Dean again, who looks as certain of this as Gabriel does. Crowley raises an eyebrow at Castiel this time, who nods stiffly and murmurs, “He is telling the truth, Dean. I am not an archangel, but I can sense no crossroads magic at work.” Dean grimaces, but nods, trusting the angel’s word, and eyes Crowley with obvious dislike. Sam is watching the exchange with narrowed eyes, and turns to Gabriel.

“Gabriel? Can we talk for a minute?” Uh-oh. Sam never uses his full name unless he’s upset about something. He reluctantly follows him into the hall, grimacing when he ends up with his back facing the wall. He’s never liked being backed into a corner, and nowadays he hates having his stomach exposed. He knows Sam would never do anything to hurt the baby, but it’s some deep animal instinct that he has no control over.

Sam is wearing a frustrated frown, corners of his mouth turned down unhappily, and the archangel feels himself shrink, trying to make himself look smaller and less threatening.

“So, uh, whatcha wanna talk about, kiddo?” he asks weakly, trying to play the fool. Sam glares at him.

“You know what I want to talk about, Gabe. You and Crowley? You were—I mean, together, what were you—” He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, turning away for a moment, rubbing his hand down over his face. Gabe watches him nervously, pulling away from the solid wall at his back. When there are no more forthcoming words from the taller man, he finally has to break the silence.

“He found out about who I was—who I really was, back then,” Gabriel admits quietly, looking away from Sam. “We...we fucked for a while, okay? He kept my secret, and I helped him out of some scrapes.”

“Did you...help him make any deals?” Sam asks just as quietly, turning around, not sure if he wants to know the answer. To his resigned dread, the angel nods, and quickly interjects, “But only with the people that deserved it, Sam, never anyone like your brother.” That had been the wrong thing to say, and a lump rises in Gabriel’s throat when Sam flinches and steps away. Gabriel is forced to call upon Castiel’s method of long ago, and quickly seizes Sam’s hand and places it on his stomach.

“I was different then, Sam, you know that,” he says, in a raw tone that has Sam’s throat tightening up as well, “you know that better than anyone what kinds of things I did back then. I had worshippers bring virgins to me as sacrifices, and I did what was expected of me: I fucked them, then killed them—” Sam grimaces, but doesn’t flinch; Gabriel had told him this long ago.

“And you forgave me for that,” Gabriel is almost pleading now, and it breaks Sam’s heart, to see the powerful archangel of Justice practically on his knees and begging him not to go, “can’t you forgive me for this, too? Don’t leave me, please, Samuel—” Sam has his lips on his before he can finish his last plea, effectively swallowing whatever it is he was going to say. Gabriel whimpers in something that sounds like relief, and goes limp against him. Sam hoists him up and sighs, smiling softly at him.

“Of course I do, Gabriel,” he says quietly. “I’ll always forgive you. I love you. And I won’t leave you. That’ll never change.”

“I love you, Samuel Winchester,” says Gabriel fiercely, “and I love this child, our child. Don’t you ever doubt that, ever.” Sam nods furiously, and pulls him back in for another kiss, with more dominance and possessiveness this time. Gabriel seems to approve, and molds against his body with a moan.

“Won’t we hurt the baby?” Sam asks nervously. Gabriel shakes his head.

“Not if we’re careful, Sambo. What do you think of pregnant sex?”

**TBC**


End file.
